Top Assassins Call Me The Lady Boss-Chapter 112: What game is he playing?

Chapter Hundred and Twelve

The words hung in the air, heavier than a gun to the back of the head.

"... together," Ahmet had said, just like that. Just like it was simple like it was sane.

She stared at him, her body stiff, and her brain scrambling for a response that did not sound like complete disbelief.

"You want us to do what?" she finally managed to ask, her voice low and sharp.

"Go together." He shrugged as if he had not just suggested suicide. "or..."

She let out a short, humorless laugh, stepping back like distance could somehow make the idea less insane.

"You must have hit your head hard on something to have to suggest this."

His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile, but even he could not summon the usual arrogance to soften the moment.

He knew.

They both knew.

"Do you have any idea what they would do if they saw us together?" she hissed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Our own people would shoot first and never ask questions."

Ahmet leaned back against the table, folding his arms loosely, as if trying to play it cool. But the tension in his body was impossible to miss.

He was worried too.

Maybe less than she was but he was worried too.

"Yeah," he said, his voice rough. "I know."

"

Ahmet opened his mouth and for a second, no words came.

He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration simmering under his skin. She could tell he wanted to say something but whatever reason it was, it wouldn’t change anything.

However, the truth tangled in his chest like a messed up feeling he wasn’t ready to name.

"Because..." He finally opened his mouth and stopped, the words hanging in his chest like they could burn anyone who heard them.

The truth was, simple. He knew that.

Because he could go on this mission alone and succeed. He knew that.

Because he didn’t need her there to survive. He also knew that too.

And yet... the thought of her moving through the dark beside him, covering his back and he covering hers too... it sparked something inside him.

Something warm. Something reckless.

They weren’t normal people.

They did not get sunsets and stolen weekends at the beach. Or take walks together in the streets.

They got gunpowder and blood and missions they weren’t meant to return from.

And somehow, doing that together felt like the closest thing to having something real.

Maybe that was why he had said it.

Maybe he was yearning for it as much as he was yearning to be skin on skin with her.

Maybe that was why the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

Or maybe... a darker voice whispered in his head... maybe it was because of Demir.

Because she had been going on missions with Demir, trusting him with her life, letting him see sides of her Ahmet wanted to keep for himself.

The thought scraped against the inside of his ribs, raw and ugly.

She had done that with Markus not once. But he wasn’t jealous of Markus being on a mission with her. Demir... He was adding to his sleepless nights.

He clenched his jaw, forcing down the mess inside him.

But he couldn’t tell her exactly that.

He couldn’t even tell himself that.

Instead, he muttered, "...because it’s easier to have you with me since you have tried breaking into the room before."

That was a safe answer.

A lie she might believe better than the truth.

She stopped and turned sharply, her eyes burning at him.

"Or it’s easier to drag me down with you when you get caught?"

The words cut deeper than she meant them to.

Ahmet flinched. Just a flicker, but it was enough for her to see her words had hurt him.

Her chest tightened painfully seeing that look in his eyes. Damn him for making her feel things.

"You think I would let them touch you if they caught us?" he said, quiet and furious, like the very idea tasted like poison on his tongue. "You do not know me at all."

Silence yawned wide between them. It was raw and suffocating, affecting them both.

She dragged a shaky breath in and ran a hand through her hair.

She hated that part of her believing him.

Hated it even more that part of her wanted to believe him.

He was her enemy after all. He was his father’s son.

Finally, he pushed off the table, the serious edge sliding off his shoulders like a discarded coat.

He cracked a crooked smile, the kind that usually came before trouble.

"Relax, kitten," he said, a teasing glint slipping into his eyes. "I’m kidding."

Asli blinked at him, too stunned to respond for a heartbeat.

"Kidding?" she echoed, her voice thin with disbelief.

He gave a casual shrug, his mouth pulling into a full grin now.

"Come on. Do you think I would really risk being seen with you? You’re not the only one with a terrifying family. They’d skin me alive and that’s before ’the killing me’ part."

"Good," she replied simply, her voice low and unmoved.

Silence stretched between them like a taut wire, humming. Their eyes locked, not with fury or challenge, but with something far quieter, far more dangerous.

That maddening stillness, where neither of them moved, neither of them blinked, and yet everything shifted.

Then, as if chasing a thought she hadn’t fully caught, she blinked and asked, "What about Markus?"

Ahmet’s brow lifted slightly. "What about him?"

"Never mind," she said quickly, breaking eye contact and shrugging as if the question had come from someone else entirely.

He did not push. He didn’t press. That was not like him; when she shut a door, he always knocked twice.

What about Markus?

She had always believed he was just a low-ranked fighter; reckless, a little too eager, barely useful. That was before the last mission. Before she watched him move through the fight like it was an instinct.

Before he fought them like he had been training vigorously for years.

People did not just get that good overnight... especially not Mafias.

So... had he always been that good?

And if he had, why the hell had he pretended otherwise during their first mission together?

The question itched in her skull, what were they hiding? What was Markus hiding? When or if she discovered their secret, would it hurt her?

She glanced at the wall clock, her eyes narrowing slightly. Without a word, she rose from the bed, dusting invisible wrinkles from her clothes.

"I’m leaving," she said flatly, heading toward the door.

Ahmet raised a brow, but stayed silent, simply watching her, with his arms crossed.

Her fingers brushed the doorknob but then, she paused and took just a breath. Then she turned her head slightly enough for him to catch the edge of her sharp profile.

"I will be waiting for Cole at my doorstep," she said, her voice turning cold and steady. "Before eight."

She checked the time again... 4:00 a.m. sharp glowing against the dark and added, "Four hours more. That is more than enough."

The words weren’t a threat.

They were a dare for him to keep Cole if he wanted trouble.

And then, without waiting for a response, she opened the door and slipped away, her footsteps fading like a ghost.

The road stretched out before her. She barely noticed all that was around her as her mind wasn’t on the empty streets or the hum of the tires; it was locked onto everything Ahmet hadn’t said.

Then, the sharp ring of her phone pulled her back. She flicked a glance at the screen, recognizing the number immediately.

Of course. She knew why he was calling.

She picked up, keeping her voice cool.

"Got anything useful for me?"

"Yes, boss," the man said, sounding more confident than usual. "Markus has always been a first-rank fighter. Never lost a fight or shootout since he was thirteen. Ahmet too. They both fight excellently."

She tightened her grip on the wheel. Her jaw locked. "Are you sure?" she asked.

She didn’t know which one was okay to hear. That he had always been a good fighter or he became one overnight.

"I am. My sources are solid."

A dry laugh escaped her lips, sharp and humorless. She knew Ahmet’s strength — had tasted it firsthand. But Markus?

That changed everything.

If Markus had been hiding this, what else was he hiding? What the hell was his agenda? Why stay in her Villa? What strings was he pulling behind her and Ahmet’s back?

Or was Ahmet aware of his plans?

Her heart beat slower, heavier... the feeling she always got when the game was deeper than it looked.

"I want everything on him," she ordered. "Everything. Every bloody detail."

"Yes, boss," the voice answered.

"And his relationship with Ahmet?" she pressed.

"They are very close. Best friends. Would lay their lives down for each other." A pause. "But... lately, they’re not as close. The others are starting to notice."

Asli’s mouth twisted into a humorless smirk.

Of course. Markus was always at her Villa now.

If they were so close, Ahmet would have noticed his best friend’s distance. And yet... he did nothing. She had warned him. Had thrown him that lifeline when she hinted at Markus’ betrayal and Ahmet had only laughed.

She could almost understand it. Loyalty like that, once forged, was like a disease. You didn’t cut it off easily, even when it was poisoning you.

Still. There was something more.

If Markus was just another desperate Mafia, she could have understood but a Mafia that strong? There had to be a bigger plan. A larger game.

She opened her mouth to demand more when her informant hesitated, then finally said,

"There’s one more thing, boss."

"Talk."

"Markus... he lost someone. Someone close."

"Who?" her voice sharpened.

"His younger sister. So many years back. Rumor has it... Ahmet was there. Some say Ahmet failed to save the kid when the Villa was attacked. Markus had blamed himself at first. But... some whispers say he began to blame Ahmet suddenly. He recently found out Ahmet was there but refused to help her."

Oh...

The pieces started to shift inside her mind, locking into place.

Ahmet’s laughter. Markus’ loyalty. His quiet resentment. His reasons for hiding his true strength and moving into her Villa.

It made sense now.

Markus wasn’t just a sleeper.

He was playing a long game.

And she was smack in the middle of it.

Why did Markus come to her father for help then?